Asylum
by KylieRiley
Summary: Reid and Emily wake up in a mental institution without any recognition of how they got there. To find out exactly what happened to them, they would be forced to unlock dark secrets, secrets that could get them killed. Mostly Reid/Emily Focus/Friendship but the rest of the team will be in too.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Criminal Minds

**Summary:** Reid and Emily wake up in a mental institution withouth any recognition of how they got there.

**A/n:** Like my story _Seven, _this one mostly centers on Prentiss and Reid (Friendship). The other characters will be in this too. Finally, I borrowed a few lines from the Movie, _Gothika_ in this chapter as my medical knowledge is practically below zero… if that is even possible. Hahaha... And I realize that I am not the king of grammer and spelling. I know there are probably mistakes and if you see them, you can point them out and I will gladly fix them... just don't be rude about it.

Also, this story will be very dark… Not as dark as my other story, but dark all the same.

VERY IMPORTANT: This story takes place three months after the Colorado incident.

* * *

**Asylum**

"_One person's craziness is another person's reality," ~Tim Burton_

**Chapter 1**

_The night is dark, just like any other night, but tonight something is different, something is off. He can feel it in the air as he walks down the daunting, long hallway. The moon is full and the light drifts into the asylum, taunting him to just get it over with. The door at the end of the hallway makes him feel small, and on the other side he can hear two people in the throes of ecstasy. _

_It drives him insane. _

_And then the world begins to crumble in a mad blur. A glass ball shatters, someone screams, and then suddenly Emily Prentiss is standing in front of that door, covered in blood. He hasn't taking dilaudid in years, yet the room spins now. He calls out her name, but the word gets caught between his teeth._

_In an odd way, he feels like this is déjà vu, which doesn't make any sense at all. Like Emily, he too is covered in blood, but he doesn't understand the essence of how that came to be. Then, the truth explodes without warning, and like a poison, it is the last thing he wants to touch. _

_He recoils back, terrified at what he sees in the mirror. The door and Emily are so close, and yet as he calls out her name, one last time, she disappears. He doesn't have time to panic over it because the next thing he knows is the candle dropping from his hand. Without warning, the devil's flame engulfs his soul. _

_..._

Reid awakes with a start. There's no candle in his hand, just the tangled sheets of his bed. However, the realization that he is not alone quickly sinks in. They attack him without cause or warning. He fights back hard and even manages to knock one of the intruders to the floor, which gives him enough room to make a run for it. However, as soon as he's on his feet his world caves in around him. He can't steady himself so he slumps unwillingly against the nearest wall.

They have drugged him heavily enough for his legs and brain to turn to mush. It takes an eternity before the room comes to a halt, and when it does, his stomach drops inside of him. He doesn't know where he is. The safeness of his own comfortable room isn't there, so naturally he panics.

As a result, the two men in the maroon uniforms move towards him again. He grabs the nearest thing and throws it at them. "Get away from me," he screams. However, they don't stop. "Get away from me. Somebody help me! Get off of me. Somebody help! Help!"

"Restrain him."

The familiarity of the voice is enough to stall him. He falters, which is enough for the two men to prick a needle into his arm. The effect hits him almost immediately, and his body goes limp as they push him back down on the mattress.

"Thank you," the deep voice tells one of the orderlies, and then with a sigh the man turns back to Reid. "Hello, Spencer."

Reid looks up with wide, brown eyes. It's one of his mother's doctors, one who has been taking care of her at Bennington Sanitarium since he was eighteen years old. That's when it finally sinks in: The small room, the barred window, and the metal door. This room isn't welcoming at all, not like his bedroom at home. He's been in a room exactly like this before, however. He knows exactly where he is. But this can't be right. Why would he be in a hospital for the mentally insane? Something is wrong. Surely it is a mistake.

"Dr. Hall?" he asks nervously. "What… what am I doing here? Why? Where am I?"

"Spencer, there was a fire at Bennington Sanitarium, so we moved you back to Washington where you would be closer to your friends."

Reid didn't comprehend anything Dr. Hall just told him. "I don't... I don't understand."

"Spencer, this is very awkward. I suppose that technically I shouldn't even be treating you, but your team figured this would be the best place for you." Dr. Hall pauses to adjust the Rolex watch on his wrist. "Anything we discuss in this room is in strict confidence and won't go anywhere but this room."

"How long? How long have I been here?"

"Three days."

Violent shakes begin to take hold of his body. This isn't happening. It can't. "Why?" he forces out through a gasp.

Dr. Hall sighs. "You were admitted to our neurosurgical unit, you were seizing violently when we found you after the fire. We did some tests. They revealed left-sided weakness, numbness, and severe frontal-lobe deficits. You received haloperidol, Ativan injections. When you came out of it, we tested… you were positive for PCP."

"No," Reid whispers but he isn't even sure if the word was ever brought to life. "No. That's a lie. I don't remember any of that."

But Dr. Hall continues on as if he hadn't said anything at all. "You were put in restraints for a few days, so you wouldn't hurt yourself. Then, you basically went into a state of catatonia. This is the first time I've seen you lucid."

"No. I shouldn't be here. This is a mistake," Reid practically cries. "I… I want to talk to someone. Hotch. I want to talk to Aaron Hotchner head of the BAU. Call him. He'll tell you that this is a mistake."

"You know," Dr. Hall goes on, ignoring him, "you're the most logical person I know. You rely only on the facts. Why am I telling you this?"

Reid hesitates before answering. "You don't think I'm impulsive or emotional."

"And following this pattern of analysis we are about to discuss a traumatic event which rendered you psychologically unfit."

Reid swallows hard. "You think I'm in denial?"

"Don't analyze yourself… just focus on remembering. Now what's the last thing you remember?" Dr. Hall asks him calmly.

His mind feels like it's been drained, which makes it all the harder to think. However, there is one memory that's painstakingly clear. "Colorado," he whispers, scared. "I remember Colorado," he recalls louder. The memory burns in the back of his mind. "Oh god, Emily. Where's Emily?"

Apparently this isn't the right answer because Dr. Hall frowns. "That was three months ago, Spence. Think harder. Do you remember taking the drugs?"

"Three months? What no. That's not right. I don't take drugs. Not anymore."

"What about three days ago," Dr. Hall presses. "Do you remember why you are here?"

And then his mind suddenly races back to his dream, the one with that daunting long hallway and the flames. "I was visiting my mother. I came to visit her."

"Yes. What else?"

Dr. Hall raises his eyebrows; clearly, he doesn't remember this part of the story. "Glass. A glass ball shattered."

"Do you remember _anything_ else?"

Reid grips his hair. They were talking so fast that he could barely comprehend it. "My mom. I remember her. Where is she? I want to talk to Hotch."

"Do you remember the fire?"

"What fire? Where's my mom? Why are you treating me when you should be treating her?"

Reid watches as Dr. Hall inhales deeply. The man is clearly not telling him something. "There was a fire a few nights ago at Bennington Sanitarium."

"Why are you telling me about a fire?" Reid shouts, nearly hysteric. The feeling in his legs is slowly returning and he is grateful that he has control over his body once again. "I want to talk to Hotch."

"You don't remember _anything _about the fire? Anything at all?" Dr. Hall sighs again. "Look, Spence. I've known you since you were – what – eighteen? I want to help you. I do, but you _have_ to remember."

"I want to talk to Hotch," Reid insists, and this time, he jumps off the bed.

Dr. Hall jumps up with him, blocking his only way out. "I have to tell you something. Something very difficult."

Reid backs away from him until he hits the wall behind him. "My mom will tell you too. She'll tell you that I don't belong here."

"Calm down, Spence."

"This is calm," Reid snaps back.

"Spencer," Dr. Hall says, gripping his shoulders firmly. "Your mother is dead."

For a moment it doesn't register, but then it hits him hard and knocks the wind out of him. For what feels like an eternity, he can literally feel the weight of those words pressing down on him. He lets the weight push him to the ground. But his mother can't be dead. He just saw her. She was alive and well.

"What? _No_. "

"She died in the fire," Dr. Hall tells him, hovering over him.

And he begins to panic. The burning sensation starts in his chest, then slowly it wraps around his lungs, making it impossible to think, impossible to breathe. He has experienced panic attacks once or twice before, but those times couldn't even compare to now. Not like this. "No. She's not dead. I saw her last night. She's fine," he screams. "There was no fire. I want to speak to Hotch."

There's a beat of silence before Dr. Hall finally answers the question he has been asking all along. "Spence, _you _started the fire."

* * *

**I was going to have them at the hospital Reid's mother was it, but then I thought that that might be in Las Vegas or somewhere like that? So I had them moved to Washington for the sake of the story. **

**And Emily will be in the next chapter. =)**

**So what did you think?**


	2. Chapter 2

_A/n: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted and favorited! Here's the next chapter_

* * *

**Asylum**

**Chapter 2**

Reid eyes fix on the clock in Dr. Hall's office. The seconds pass by with each tick, yet the black hands never seems to move. He's convinced that he is still dreaming, that this is a nightmare; However, the seconds keep ticking away and he does not wake up. It amazes him how easily one's life can change. In the blink of an eye his world has become rather estranged. Nothing is quite right, yet the world went on breathing, living…or dying, depending on how you looked at it. He has no recognition of how he ended up in a mental institution and he _especially_ has no memories of ever starting a fire. An image of his mother burns in the back of his head, one he'd never forget.

When he was a kid, she'd ask him to read to her. He could picture the two of them sitting on her bed, clear as day. He'd read her endless amounts of books such as _Tom Sawyer, Pride and Prejudice, Great Expectations, _and so on. In those moments, nobody was making fun of him and nobody was yelling at him, his mother wasn't sick and he wasn't scared. In those moments, life was worth living.

Those were some of his most precious memories he had of his mother and that's how he liked to remember her.

He blinks back tears, refusing to cry. If she died in the fire that he started did that make him a murderer? Even if he didn't remember doing it? He glances at Dr. Hall, debating whether or not if he should ask the elder man to settle his internal debate. Sometimes, when you don't ask questions, it's not because you are afraid that someone will lie to your face. It's because you're afraid they'll tell you the truth. In the end, he decides to remain silent. After all, it seems to be working; nobody has drugged him yet.

"Spencer?"

Reid chooses to keep his focus on the ground. He wouldn't cry. He _couldn't. _

Eventually, he finds his voice. "Why am I here?"

But they both know what he is _really _asking.

They sit in silence for an eternity before Dr. Hall finally tells him the reason he is in here instead of in jail, locked behind bars.

Schizophrenia.

It's a psychiatric diagnosis that describes a mental disorder characterized by abnormalities in the perception or expression of reality. Drug abuse, social contact, prenatal, and genetics are all causes of the disease – all of which he falls into. It is a five syllable word that has terrified him ever since his mother was diagnosed. For years he has tried to deny it, but thinking back now he realizes that the signs had been so clear. He wonders how he avoided the subject for so long.

As soon as the word leaves Dr. Hall's mouth, Reid's heart falls out of his chest and onto the floor. It's the things you don't see coming that are strong enough to kill you. How long had he been worrying – no obsessing – over this disease?

"It's not an official diagnosis though, so don't be too worried. Since it runs in your family we need to take it into consideration," Dr. Hall tells him the same way he would say 'good morning' or 'how are you?'

Dr. Hall speaks two words then and says them with great uneasiness. In translation, two giant words that he struggles with, carries on his shoulder, and then drops as a bungling pair at his feet. They fall off sideways as Reid veers with them and can no longer sustain their weight. Together, they sit on the ground, large and loud and clumsy. The two words: _I'm sorry_

Then with a weak smile, the old man continues, "But look on the bright side…it's keeping you out of jail. Trust me, this is a lot better."

Now, being escorted down the hall, Reid seriously doubts this. Describing this freak show as a nightmare would only sugarcoat it. Everything is grim here. Everything is broken. Here, everyone thinks you're crazy, and when people think you're crazy, they treat you differently.

"Here you go," one of the nurses tells him. He's talking to him as if he were a four-year-old.

"Where are we?" Reid asks but he's not really paying attention.

"The cafeteria. Breakfast."

Reid just stares, and when the man turns away with a shrug, he calls after him, "Wait! You can't leave me here. Not with these people." Reid gives an unease glance at the sea of white freaks. "I…I don't belong here."

After he says it, he realizes how ridiculous that sounded. However, the orderly doesn't call him out on it.

"You'll be fine. Just breathe."

And just like that, he is alone again.

There are about twenty patients or so in the cafeteria. They all wear white and most of them have a nurse by their sides to help them eat.

Reid lets out a shaky breath, one he did not know he was holding. There's a tremor in his hands and he knows it's only a matter of time before he breaks down completely. He catches the eye of another orderly across the room and knows that if he doesn't move soon, he'll get another needle in his arm. But his feet are rooted to the ground and he can't move.

Panic threatens to overwhelm him, and just as an orderly makes a move for him, a hand touches his shoulder, breaking him from his trance.

He whirls around, nearly knocking the person over. It isn't until the familiar voice speaks does he realize that he knows it.

"Reid?"

She's wearing the same uniform as him – white and neat - but unlike his, hers comes with an award wining smile. Almost instantly, he relaxes.

"Emily?" It's pathetic really, how happy he is to see her.

"Thank god," she huffs. "I thought you left me here by myself."

He just stares at her, too stunned to move. "I don't understand," he tells her simply. But did anything _really _make sense? "You're here too?"

Emily smirks before glancing towards the orderly who is still making his way over to them. "Come on. Let's go sit down before they inject God knows what into us."

The orderly backs off when they finally make a move to an abandoned table, one that blends into the crowd where others won't take notice of them. The table is white – the same color as everything else in this godforsaken place. It makes him sick.

"What happened?" he chokes out, barely brining the words to life.

Only now does he let the information given to him sink in. His mother is dead, gone from a fire that _he _started. The very words are enough to kill him, so he quickly pushes that thought to the back of his mind, ridden himself of that very thought. He refuses to believe it. He can't because he knows he'll snap if he does.

For a moment, even _Emily Prentiss_ looks unsure. This alone makes him feel light-headed. "I… I don't know. The last thing I remember is Colorado….then I just woke up here," she tells him.

"When?"

"Three days ago. I… didn't know what happened to you. Nobody will tell me anything."

Even he can hear the fear leaking into her voice. That makes his emotional stability plummet. Emily always knew what to do in situations like this. If she didn't know then how would he cope? He couldn't deal with her not knowing. "I'm sorry. I just… woke up."

She lowers her voice to a whisper. "They think we are crazy, Reid. They think we belong here." There's so much sadness in her voice that it hurts him.

He swallows the guilt, the fear and forces himself to tell her the truth. "They told me there was a fire… one that I started." He looks up at her with wide eyes, hoping for a denial, but all he sees is truth.

"I know… apparently I was there. At least, that's what Dr. Hall told me."

"What?" His head snaps up, finally catching her gaze. Dr. Hall hadn't told him this.

"I don't remember it either."

There is a beat of silence, one he gladly chooses to break. "We don't belong here, Emily."

He doesn't miss the uneasy way she glances at his wrists. It's only then does he realize the thick bandages wrapped around them. Feeling the sudden pit in his stomach, he wonders when that had happened. Had he done that?

"They think we do." She bites her lip. "Apparently, Hotch does too."

"What?"

Emily gives him a look that suggest he should know this. "He's the one who put us in here. So I guess on some level we belong…"

"Why?" Reid practically shouts, which earns him several glares from the others around him. "Why would he do that?" he asks again, this time lowering his voice to a whisper.

"It's not forever, Reid. At least this way, we get out earlier than if we were in jail."

"I don't like it."

She gives him a weak smile. "At least we got each other now. For a second I thought you left me too."

"I would never." Then his face contorts at a second thought. "They haven't come to visit?"

Her jaw tightens. "No. I think they're still mad at me…but I don't blame them…" Then her eyes find his unerringly fast. It surprises him to see that they are filled with so much worry. "You're not still mad at me, Reid. Are you? Because I'm sorry… I'm really sorry. I just -"

He cuts her off, "What are you talking about?"

She just stares at him, confused. "You don't remember?"

And before he can ask, a man in his early fifties slumps in the chair right next to Emily. "I hear we got another schizophrenic on the loose," the man sneers.

Reid honestly isn't sure if he is talking to him or Emily. But either way, Emily fights this battle for him and he is thankful for that. "Get lost asshole."

The man scoffs at her and turns to Reid. "So what'd you do?"

"I don't remember," Reid tells him honestly.

That earns him a smirk. "Welcome to the club. The name's TJ." When Reid doesn't give him a name, the man frowns. "What? You don't have a name?"

TJ grumbles at them when they don't offer any. Another thought must have crossed his mind though because he's already asking his next question. "So you want to know what I did?" he mocks them.

Emily just rolls her eyes. "Not particularly."

Reid glares at her, wondering why the hell she is patronizing the man. He on the other hand, does not care or want to know what this psycho did. So he tells the guy. TJ, however, tells them anyway.

"I killed some people. Just recently, two sweet, sweet little kids." TJ's lower lip twitches before turning upwards into a sadistic smile.

Reid suddenly wants to vomit. He doesn't belong here. Every day they fought and locked up serial killers. Hotch knows this better than anyone else, yet he locks them up here all the same. It isn't until TJ is snickering loudly, does he realize that he has spoken his thoughts out loud.

"What? You don't think you belong here?" the man spits. "You want to know something? No matter how hard you try to be good, to get well… they won't believe it. No matter what you do… you lose. Even if you tell the truth, no one will listen. You know why? Because you're crazy." At the last word the man's eyes fall inside his head and a hysterical laugh escapes from the back of his throat. As quickly as it began, his face morphs back into a sadistic one. "And the more you try to prove them wrong, the crazier you appear. You're invisible now. Can't you feel it?"

"No," Reid tells him. "That's not true." But deep down he knew it was.

"Jay," another patient calls from another table.

"Gotta go," TJ sends them one last toothless grin before wandering off.

"What? No," Reid shouts at him. "I'm not crazy. I'm not…" But TJ is already out of earshot. Sighing dramatically, he turns back to Emily who had been listening to the conversation intently. "I'm not," he insists.

She stifles a laugh. "Nope… Schiz."

His glare hardens. "That's not funny."

Emily shrugs. "To you, but then again, Dr. Hall didn't diagnosis _me_ as a schizophrenic."

"Then why are you here and not in jail?" He snaps at her and immediately regrets it. All he wants is to fill in the missing pieces of the puzzle. It's driving him to the brink of insanity. "I'm sorry….I'm just trying to understand."

"I don't know," she tells him honestly, her voice changing to a lighter tone, which makes him feel bad about his outburst. "I can't remember."

And then a strange silence washes over them. It's only then does he feel the weight of the previous information starting to settle in. His mother is dead. It's the cold, hard fact that could kill him if he wasn't careful. All too suddenly his mind flashes to a different setting – a darker one.

_A glass ball shatters, someone screams, and Emily is standing at the end of the hallway._ He's dreaming – _day _dreaming – again. He knows now, but it still doesn't stop the bile rising in the back of his throat. _A candle is in his hand and unwilling, as if something is possessing him to do it, he drops –_

An orderly taps him on the shoulder, saving him from his nightmare. "You got visitors."

Glancing around frantically, Reid swallows hard. It's only when he glances at Emily, does he realize her eyes are wide, round, and fixed on only him. Had he been screaming? "Who?" He asks, just barely bringing the word to life.

The orderly shrugs. "Your team."

Reid nervously looks at Emily. "Only me?"

The nurse huffs, clearly impatient. "Yes. Only you. Now lets go. They're waiting for you."

Emily nods at him. "It's okay, Reid. They are still mad at me. I get it." She sighs when he doesn't move. "I'll be okay."

He doesn't want to leave her alone but he doesn't have much of a choice either because the nurse latches onto his arm and pulls him away. As he is ushered away, he gives Emily one last glance and realizes the horrible truth. His dream wasn't a dream at all, but bits and pieces of a reality.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! It keeps me motivated. Also, I am going away for the next two weeks so I won't be able to update until I come back. I'm really sorry! I made this one a lot longer than I normally would though!_

* * *

**Chapter 3**

The hallway is long and daunting, just like his dream, which sends him into a state of panic. For the first time in his life he's not quite sure if he can deal with this irrational situation. There is no need to measure his sorrow, as it is plainly evident, even from a distance. He has so many questions, so many regrets. What had Emily done to make the team hate her so much? Perhaps if he is lucky, this turmoil burning inside him will kill him before the night is even through.

"Who is it?"

"I told you," the man says. "Your team."

"Are they all here?" Reid asks.

"There are two of them."

Hope drops inside of him. Only two came? He isn't going to lie…never has he felt so betrayed, hated before. Did only two _really _care about him? But then again… what about Emily? No one came for her. God, what happened three nights ago? What could they have possibly done to make their friends hate them so much?

"Here you go," the guy tells him.

Reid looks around. The room's conditions are less than sanitary and just like everything else, the room is white. The table is white. The walls are white. Everything is goddamn white, which for some reason makes it all the harder to breathe, all the harder to think. Thankfully, the orderly snaps him out of his near breakdown by patting him on the back.

"Wait here. They will be in soon." Without waiting for a response, the man disappears out the door and locks it behind him.

Sighing heavily, Reid slumps down in one of the chairs and pulls his legs up to his chest. And that's enough. He is crying, so angry at himself, but he can't stop. The only time he ever allows himself to show weakness is at home, in the shower, so the water could wash away his tears and sorrows. But the harder he tries to stop, the harder his tears come.

"Reid…?"

His head snaps up at the all too familiar voice. It's Morgan, and for a moment Reid thinks his friend looks worse off than he does. Maybe this predicament isn't affecting only him.

"I miss you, Kid," Morgan tells him uneasily, as if he's a time bomb waiting to go off. "It's not the same without you."

Where their conversations before normally consisted of laughter, jokes and statistics, now they only held regret, small talk, and neglect.

Reid scoffs, glancing at his bandage wrists. "Yeah, well, maybe you should have cut your wrists too. We could have been roommates."

Morgan winces, and Reid sees the anxiety and pain spread across his friend's face. "Reid, that's not funny."

He hangs his head in shame. "Why did you put us in here? Why? We don't belong here, Morgan." Then his voice shatters into a million pieces, just like that, and though he tries to fix it, nothing holds.

A shadow darkens on Morgan's face. It's a dark, sadden look he can't quite place. However, he understands it all the same. His eyes are red and swollen, he can't remember the last time he combed his hair, his wrists are wrapped in bandages, and the uniform only added to his image. There is no doubt in his mind - that through Morgan's eyes - he_ does_ belong here.

The door opens then, saving Morgan from having to answer, and Hotch walks in. For the first time, Reid does not recoil from his boss's gaze. He wants Hotch to know all the pain he has caused him for locking him up in this godforsaken place. For the first time ever, Hotch is the one to drop his eyes. You'd think that for winning a glaring contest with Hotch you'd gain some sort of pride, however, only hopelessness fills him.

There's a silence that seems to last forever before Hotch finally breaks it. "JJ had her baby. She named him Henry."

Reid doesn't even blink. "Is that suppose to make me feel better?"

"Reid…"

"Why?" he cuts in. "How could you lock me away?"

Hotch closes his eyes and sighs. "Please," he begs, "don't make this more difficult than it already is."

Reid looks up at them, tears glistening in his eyes. "How could you leave us here? _How? _We didn't do anything!_"_

He stands up so fast that the chair he is sitting in flies out from under him and crashes into the wall behind him. It doesn't take long for a pair of orderlies to come rushing in to put him under.

Reid pales, immediately regretting his outburst. "No…God, no…" Tripping over his feet, he falls to the floor and latches onto Morgan's leg, sobbing for them to take him home. "God, _please. _No."

Hotch must have heard the plea in his voice because he tells the orderlies something and with a lot of hesitation, they back off. "He's fine," Hotch scowls. "We're trained FBI agents. I think we'll be okay."

"Look, sir," the one nurse says, "I'm sorry, but we're gonna' have to take him back now."

Hotch shakes his head. "We haven't even been here for five minutes. Give –"

"I'm sorry, sir, but he's acting up and the rules…"

"Two more minutes," Morgan cuts in. "That's all we ask."

And just like that they leave the room and relief washes over him. Sighing dramatically, he releases himself from Morgan's leg but doesn't get up off the floor. "I'm not crazy, Morgan," he nearly sobs. "I'm not."

Morgan kneels down, so he's eye level with Reid. "I know, Kid. I know..."

Hope swells up inside of him. "Then why can't we go home?"

But the way Morgan drops his gaze, tells him that this isn't going to happen anytime soon.

"Look Reid…these people are going to help. They will."

Reid bites his quivering lip. You know, it's funny how you can trust someone so much that it hurts… then they take that trust – the trust that took you years to build up – and destroy it in only a matter of seconds. Morgan, of all people, is the last person Reid would have thought to do just that.

...

Hotch slumps against the wall and pinches the bridge of his nose. "What does he remember?"

Everything aches in despair. From the pictures, to the carpet, to even the office itself weeps in frustration. The room is dark; the only source of light comes from the dimly lit lamp on the corner of Dr. Hall's desk. Even the weather outside cries for their sorrows.

Dr. Hall sighs. "Nothing."

They took Reid away and locked him back up, then Dr. Hall had ushered them back to his office to have a 'talk'.

"Nothing?" Morgan asks, shocked. "Not even the fire? What should we do?"

Dr. Hall nods in agreement. "In cases like these we find it's best that they figure it out on themselves. Hopefully, when Reid comes around he can finish what he started." He pauses, then looks them in the eye. "Which leads me to my next point… Emily."

But Morgan shakes his head. He didn't want to talk about her, what she did. "No."

"I think -"

"What Emily did was selfish," Morgan snaps. "I will help Reid in any way I can… but not like that. Not like that."

"Morgan," Hotch cuts in gently. "It might -"

But Morgan is already out the door.

...

That night, Reid lies in his room, silently staring at the ceiling and listening to the soft sound of the rain pounding against his barred window. He finds it peaceful, which is a relief considering where he is. After Hotch and Morgan left, he hadn't been able to find Emily, which frightened the hell out of him. Without her he couldn't do this. He needed her.

God, he really needed her.

All day, he felt the need to panic, to faint, to do _something, _but nothing could make him escape this nightmare. He's honestly not sure if he can go through this without her. Fundamentally, he hasn't realized how important contact with _normal _human beings are. Perhaps, he thinks, if he had spent more time with his team outside of work, he wouldn't be in the predicament that he is currently in.

There's rustling at his door then and he holds his breath. If there is one thing in this godforsaken place that isn't rundown it would be the security. A nurse will make their rounds and check in on him every three hours or so. Even he knows enough about mental hospitals to pretend that you're asleep. However, unlike the last time, the nurse doesn't leave.

And just like that, he begins to panic.

He can hear every breath, every step closer they make to his bed.

God, he doesn't want to die. Not here, not now.

He can feel the person hovering over him now, feel their breath on his neck. So he forces his eyes shut and presses himself into the mattress, hoping that this simple gesture could make him disappear. When the voice finally speaks, he nearly faints altogether.

"_Hello Clarice." _

Letting out something between a scream and a gasp, he falls out off his bed and lands on the ground with a loud thud. When he finally regains the ability to breathe, he frowns at his imposter. "God, Emily… _don't_ do that."

She's laughing hysterically and though she apologizes, it doesn't sound like she means it.

"Who's Clarice?" he asks her, just barely bringing the words to life.

The look on her face tells him he should know this. "Come on... _Silence of the Lambs_…"

"What lambs?"

Her frown deepens. "The movie. You know Hannibal Lector…?" When he just continues to stare, she huffs. "Wow. Tell you what, as soon as we get out of this freak show we'll have a movie night. Okay?"

Looking around with frantic eyes he wonders how the hell she got in without getting caught. "Emily?" his voice is small. He hates it.

"Yeah?"

"How'd you get in here? Didn't anyone see you?"

She shrugs. "Come on, Reid. I'm an FBI agent… not to mention growing up with my mother. Her house was a jail…literally. Trust me, if I can outwit her, I think I can manage to trick a few nurses…"

"We could get in trouble," he stutters.

Emily rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on, I'm bored." She turns then, smiling wickedly. "Besides, it's time that you live a little. It may be against the rules, but I got a set of keys to the building." To prove it, she dangles the set in front of his face and laughs loudly at the expression he gives her.

"Shh!" he hisses, praying that someone hasn't heard the echo. "I still don't understand how you managed…"

"Well, I had to find some way to entertain myself while you were out for three days," she interrupts, smirking at his wide-eyed expression. "So, you want to go for a walk?" she asks, raising her eyebrows suggestively and ignoring him completely.

He doesn't want to get into trouble, he doesn't want another needle in his arm, but he doesn't want to lose Emily's trust either. "I… guess it depends on where we are going."

She just smirks, and without giving him an answer, she disappears out the door. Logistically, he has no choice but to follow her.

…

They sneak into the hallway and quickly run towards the opposite end of where the guards are stationed. The only issue that they have are their socks, which keep slipping on the very uncharacteristically waxed floor. It is amusing, and by the time they reach the end of the long, daunting hallway, they are laughing so loud that Reid fears someone will hear them.

"Emily, shhhh," he whispers.

"Who cares, Reid?" she tells him with a smile. "What are they going to do? Throw us out?" She has a point. "Come on. It's this way."

And that's when he begins to think that, with Emily, being locked up in a mental institution isn't going to be as awful as he originally thought. In fact, he hasn't laughed this hard in a long time and in a strange way, it feels good.

They come to a stop at a large wooden door, and once Emily fishes the right key out of her pocket, they make their way through it. It is dark and the smell of dampness is in the air, which can only mean one thing; they are in a basement. His assumptions are confirmed as soon as they descend the unstable stairs and meet nothing but storage.

"No one comes down here in the middle of the night," she tells him, shoving the keys back into her pocket, "so we have free reign of the place." She pulls her hair up to the top of her head and then releases it to let her curls cascade down around her face and shoulders.

"What if we get caught?"

"We won't."

He frowns. "Hypothetically, what if –"

"Reid," she says as she places a firm hand on his shoulder. "Calm down. We won't get caught."

"I'm sorry," he tells her sheepishly. "I'm not use to…"

"Breaking the rules?"

He wants to argue with her, but something inside tells him not to. "…Yeah."

Her eyes light up as she laughs. "Well then, I guess I'll have to teach you everything you need to know." There's a twinkle in her eye, something he can't quite place, and before he can pinpoint what exactly, she steps away from him and it's gone.

Giving her a skeptical glance, he forces out his next question, "Did you break the rules a lot?"

"I use to do a lot of things I wasn't supposed to," she tells him honestly as she heads off behind a stack of boxes.

When she disappears from his view, he begins to panic. "Emily, wait."

"Do you smell that?" she calls out from somewhere in the shadows.

Desperately searching for her between the stacks of storage, he tries to calm his racing heart. "Smell what?" he asks. He hopes that if he can keep her talking then he'll be able to pinpoint her voice and find her. "Emily? What are all these boxes for?" When she doesn't answer him, he swears he can suddenly taste death on the tip of his tongue.

But that's illogical, he knows.

"Emily?" he squeaks out.

He walks slowly into a pitch black room, and he can feel his heart pounding in his chest. "Emily?"

Without warning something jumps out in front of him and he swears he sees his life flash before his eyes.

"Boo!"

As Reid falls backwards and he can't help but let out a small screech. He turns, glaring at her. "I told you _not _to do that."

"You're just too easy."

Frowning, he defensively crosses his arms across his chest. "Where did you go?"

"I was underneath the stairs. You walked right by me."

"Oh," he says lamely.

There's a smug expression on her face. "Reid, what kind of teenager were you?"

He chooses not to answer this question. "Emily, I think we should get back now," he says instead. "We've been gone for a while and they make checks every three hours and I think –"

"Relax. We'll be fine. Besides, do you really –"

A loud bang cuts her off, and by natural instinct, they throw themselves at the nearest wall. For a moment, everything seems to freeze as they hear footsteps from above them. No doubt whoever entered the basement was now heading their way.

"Come on," Emily hisses as she takes him by the hand and drags him behind a pile of old storage boxes. It's not much of a hiding spot and before he can protest, Emily roughly pushes them into the shadows.

"…is he?" An unfamiliar voice speaks from not too far away.

The other man sighs, which is all the proof Reid needs to confirm that it is Dr. Hall. "I can't believe he's lost it so quickly. I've never seen something like it before."

"It's a shame though…"

"I knew Spencer since he was eighteen."

He can feel his heart pounding like rapid exchange of gun fire and he's sure he's breathing louder than what should be considered normal. It's a wonder to him how their sudden intruders haven't heard them yet.

"Shit. His mother was in the fire?"

Deciding to be the brave one for a change, Reid sticks his head out from around the box so he can hear better. The man Dr. Hall is with is short, but that's about all Reid can make out in the dark.

Dr. Hall nods. "Afraid so."

"Fuck! We're screwed!" the short guy shouts.

"Michael shut up before someone hears you."

The one known as Michael sighs heavily."Who the hell is going to believe that? People just don't start fires randomly. They're gonna' start talking, man."

"I know. I know," Dr. Hall tells him. "Look, there's enough information to go off of. Besides, he _did_ start that fire…"

"But people are gonna' start asking _why,_" Michael sneers. "He is going to remember eventually and he's gonna' talk."

Reid's heart skips a beat. What did he see? What the hell happened? Never in his life has he felt so hopeless, so afraid.

"Calm down. Nobody will believe him," Dr. Hall cuts in. "That whole Colorado incident is enough for people to think he's messed up in the head."

"Completely forgot about that."

They both light up cigarettes and for a brief moment, Reid catches a glimpse of the man's attire. He isn't dressed like a Doctor, but a police officer, which doesn't make any sense at all to him. There are not many guards on duty here, mostly just orderlies, and he's almost positive he has never seen this man before in his life.

They lower their voices, suddenly making it very hard to hear. Though he can't make out what they are saying, he's pretty sure they switched their conversation to Emily.

"I think she's going to play to our advantage," Dr. Hall points out.

"You better hope so."

Dr. Hall throws his cigarette on the floor and puts it out with his foot. "Look, nobody knows what happened but us. As long as Spencer is here, locked up, nothing will happen. Even if he does remember nobody's going to believe him anyway."

Reid sends Emily a look of horror, but she is no longer there. For a moment, fear swells up inside of him. Emily wouldn't leave him here, he's sure of it, yet she's gone now, nowhere to be seen. Frantically, he searchers for her, but he can't see a damn thing in the darkness.

"How the hell are you so calm!" Michael shouts, breaking Reid from his trance. "Our jobs are on the line here for Christ sake! I know what you were doin'. You_ definitely_ know what you were doin'."

"Just shut-up," Dr. Hall snaps. "Someone might hear you. Just get what you came here for and let's go."

Michael sighs in defeat. "Fine. But this conversation is far from over."

Dr. Hall pats the guy on the back. "Fine," he says sternly as he inspects the various items on the shelves. "Ahh… here it is." As he reaches to the very top shelf Reid's eye catches something silver in the dark. The other man must have noticed it to because he's commenting on it not more than a second later.

"Hey, nice watch, Boss. Where'd you get it?"

"Got it from a patient."

The sadistic smile that creeps across Dr. Hall's face makes Reid suspect there is more to it than just that.

"Oh, is that so? Hey, I could use one…"

The rest of the sentence dies its own death as the two men walk further away from them. The last thing Reid hears is the banging of the door from above. Sighing with relief, he slumps back against a cardboard box and lets his fears slowly fade away. However, that relief t quickly comes crashing back down once he realizes that he still doesn't know where Emily is.

"Emily?" he hisses in the dark.

After awhile he hears a soft whisper. "Reid?"

Emily comes up from behind him.

"I… I thought you left me," he admits.

She looks almost hurt that the thought even crossed his mind. "Never. Now, let's get out of here."

But he doesn't move. He can't. Dr. Hall's conversation is finally settling in and he can't breathe. It wasn't a mistake that he ended up here. He knows that now. "Emily…what… what are we going to do?"

"I don't know," she tells him softly. "But we'll think of something tomorrow. I promise."

He looks up to meet her gaze and he can see something reassuring in her eyes. They're warm and brown and hold a kindness he has never seen before. For the first time since he has woken up here, he feels safe.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Yeah. So I am like the worst updater ever. hahaha in my defense though, school has kept me busy. But anywho, now it's summer.

So here's the next update. Sorry for the long wait.

Also, I still don't have a beta (surprise) so sorry for the grammatical errors.

**Asylum**

**Chapter 4**

_The night is dark. So utterly dark. Hope drowns in it. Death feeds off of it, but he can't stop. He has to keep going. Emily's at the end of the hallway again, but unlike the last time she is not covered in blood. He screams, but no one seems to hear. A glass ball shatters. People are moaning on the other side of that door. He calls out her name but her gaze is fixed on two identical boys behind her. They can't be a day older than eight and they are trying to tell him something. Emily finally turns back to him. She's standing there with a finger held up to her lips and then before he can stop her, she drops the candle from her grasps and the room engulfs in flames. _

Reid awakes with a start.

It doesn't take long for him to find Emily the next morning. She's sitting at the same table they sat at yesterday, and this time, surprisingly, she isn't alone. She's sitting across from TJ and as far as he can tell they are playing cards. How odd…However, it doesn't surprise him though as much as it should. Emily has an odd way of fitting in when she has to… even if it was with these misfits. Despite this, it just doesn't feel right to him. At least nobody is harassing her.

"What are you playing?" he asks them.

"Solitaire," TJ jumps in. "Wanna play?"

Reid looks at them pointedly. "Since when is that a two player game?"

TJ shrugs. "It's not, Schiz, but you can watch."

"That's not my name," Reid mumbles half heartedly as Emily laughs.

"Oh, come on, Reid. It's fun. We are seeing who can win the game first," Emily tells him as she moves a queen to the King.

"Hmm. Yup. Sure. Tell you what," TJ glances at them. "You take over for me and I'll see you later. I'm going to go grab something to eat."

Once TJ is out of sight, Emily sighs with relief. "Finally."

He hesitates. "Sorry?"

She gives him a pointed look. "You should be. You don't know how long I've been up." Sighing heavily, she throws a glance over her shoulder. "Twice already, this guy named Frank told me that Jack the Ripper was sitting next to me." She pauses to enjoy the yogurt she's eating. Suddenly, an all too familiar smirk tugs at the corners of her lips. "Although, TJ was nice enough to talk to me."

"Why?" He, on the other hand he can't place why she is so happy about this. "He's crazy."

She shrugs nonchalantly. "Yeah, but he has some pretty interesting stories."

In all honesty, he has no idea what to say to that, so he settles with the first thing that comes to mind. "Did you know that the word asylum means place of safety or refuge?"

"I did not know that." Sensing his sudden discomfort, Emily eyes him suspiciously. "What's wrong, Reid?"

"Dr. Hall wants to meet with me in ten minutes," he admits with a sigh.

She brushes his worry off. "Oh you'll be fine. He has sessions with all his patients. I had one the other day."

"You don't think he saw us? Do you?" he asks, his voice cracking with fear. "What if they caught us on surveillance cameras and they know we heard everything."

"I don't think so…"

"But he could have. Right?"

She doesn't look so sure. "I guess they could have, but I don't think you have to worry about anything."

"Emily, they _know. _They know why we're here and they know why I started that fire. They're hiding something, something that could get them in trouble and us out of here."

Her face contorts. "I know. I know. I was there too."

That's when the compassion drains from his face, only to be replaced by pure anger. Emily knew something and she wasn't telling him. "What happened?" he snaps at her.

Her eyes grow wide at his sudden outburst. "Reid…I don't know what -"

"But you do, Emily. You know something I don't." He's shouting out her, he knows, but he can't help it. The fact that nobody will tell him anything is only fueling the anger inside of him.

"Reid, I'm sorry." Her voice is so small.

He opens his mouth in another shout, but it only comes out in a whisper. "How come they didn't come to see you?"

Emily chews at her bottom lip. "They're still mad at me," she tells him eventually, dropping her eyes. Giving him a weak smile, she reaches out and takes his hand in hers. For a moment, he actually forgets why he is mad at her in the first place. "Reid, we'll figure this out. You started that fire for a reason. We'll remember. I promise you. Okay?

"Okay," he whispers, but his voice is small, weak. He knows it is only a matter of time before he falls apart completely.

**...**

Dr. Hall's office is everything a clinical psychologist's office should be. The bookshelf on the far side takes up the majority of the room and the wooden floor board is perfectly finished. His desk sits in the middle of the room by the large window that overlooks the front lawn and everything is perfectly in order. In fact it's too perfect, too neat. While most would find comfort in the pictures, the couch and the various plants, Reid only feels trapped.

"You have to trust me, Spencer," Dr. Hall states slowly. "I can't help you if you won't let me in."

But he is hardly paying attention. Instead, the thought of TJ and the conversation he had with him the other day is still burning fresh in the back of his mind.

"_Even if you tell the truth, no one will listen. You know why? Because you're crazy. And the more you try to prove them wrong, the crazier you appear."_

Never had words felt so true before. Silently, he wonders about all the criminals he had questioned in the past. What if some of them truly had been innocent? Was this how they felt – broken, betrayed, empty?

Suddenly the fear leaves him entirely, instantly replacing itself with anger. "You can't trust someone who thinks you're crazy."

Dr. Halls sighs, studies him, and then jots something down on the notebook in front of him. "I know this is difficult, but I am trying to help you."

Reid scoffs, remembering everything in the basement.

"Let's talk about your team." The change of topic is so sudden, so particular. Why them? Why now? He thinks back to last night.

"_I think she's going to play to our advantage," Dr. Hall points out._

"_You better hope so."_

Why is Emily even a factor? Why was she with him when he was supposedly visiting his mother? Why was the whole team mad at her? Dear God, what had they done the night of the fire?

"Spencer…?"

Reid suddenly finds the floor very interesting. "What about them?" He twirls his thumbs

"Well, you all worked together for a long time. Correct?"

"Yeah," Reid insists, feeling oddly and overwhelmingly uncomfortable with the conversation.

"It says here that the last case you worked on was Colorado. Do you want to talk about that? I can't imagine what that must have felt like…for the both of you."

"Yes, I'm sure you have no idea at all."

Dr. Hall glances down at the file briefly before glancing back up. "Your partner Emily was beaten," he states.

"I was there." He isn't sure why Dr. Hall continues to tell him things he clearly already knows.

After a moment of silence Dr. Hall speaks up. "It wasn't your fault, Spencer. You know that. There is nothing you could have done to prevent such a terrible act of violence." His voice is soft and gentle, as if he truly cared.

A thought crosses his mind. "Did Emily help me start the fire?"

Dr. Hall seems taken aback by his question. "I don't know. How about you tell me?"

Reid lets out a heavy and frustrated sigh. It infuriates him that no one will tell him exactly what happened.

Reading his mind, Dr. Hall says, "I can't tell you what happened, Spencer. You need to figure that out on your own."

Reid shakes his head, refusing to believe. "You know what I think?"

Adjusting his Rolex watch, Dr. Hall sighs. "And what's that Spencer?"

"I don't think I started that fire at all."

Dr. Hall raises his eyebrows. The disbelief on his face is painstaking clear. "You don't? And why's that?"

"Don't you think I'd have some recollection? After all, I do have an eidetic memory. "

"Spencer … you went into a severe state of catatonia. You weren't lucid -"

"I know what I was told," Reid cuts in. Letting those words sink in, Reid keeps his gaze strong. He wants Dr. Hall to know that he isn't one to be played with. If Dr. Hall wanted to put the blame on him then he wasn't going down without a fight.

"Spencer, sometimes we see what we want to believe instead of acknowledging what is really there."

Reid scrunches his face in confusion. He isn't really sure what Dr. Hall is trying to get at. Then a catch of light catches his eye and another thought crosses his mind. "I like your watch."

At first Reid isn't sure if Dr. Hall knows what he is talking about, but then a smile crosses Dr. Hall's lips. "Oh. Yes. I got it from my brother. It was a gift."

But that's not where he got it… At least that's not what he told the security guard in the basement last night….

"_Hey, nice watch, boss. Where'd you get it?" _

"_Got it from a patient."_

"I didn't know you had a brother," Reid settles with eventually.

"I do…."

"Looks expensive," Reid presses.

Dr. Hall laughs. "Could be, but the lens is cracked."

Reid narrows his eyes. He didn't notice that last night. "It's still a Rolex."

"Yes it is… But this session isn't about me. Is it?"

Reid shrugs. "I guess not."

Dr. Hall closes his file and stands up. "Spencer, I'm going to ask you to do something for me. I think it will help."

"And what's that?"

"To finish what you started."

"I don't understand."

However, before the words could leave Dr. Hall's mouth, a Nurse barges into the room completely out of breath. "Sir! A patient is acting out again." The way her hair sticks out of her braid and the fear in her eyes tells Reid that the matter it is urgent and couldn't wait. Dr. Hall must have sensed it too because within seconds he rises from his chair and runs to whatever needed to be taken care of.

"Spencer, wait here. I will be right back."

The door slams shut with such force that it manages to knock the folder hanging off Dr. Hall's desk to the floor. Documents, papers and newspaper clippings scatter across the room, causing Reid to groan.

_Of course._

Reid tightens his lips and examines the various documents on the floor. He didn't plan on picking them up, but a title of a newspaper clipping catches his attention.

Crouching down, he carefully lifts the article so he can read it. _Family Murdered in Home: Killer still at large. _It's an old paper. At least dating back to thirty years ago. A family photo is placed just under the heading. There is something about the two children – twin boys – that he recognizes. They look so familiar, yet he has no idea why.

Panic begins to build in his chest. That wasn't all. There were hundreds of newspaper clippings and documents, all of which were about the same case.

_Suspect Brought in for Hopkins Murder. _

_Hopkins Murderer still at Large_

And the list went on and on. Finally, his eyes drift to something completely out of the ordinary. It was an old photo and although the picture was taken at least a couple of decades ago, Reid new exactly who the man in the photo was. Dr. Hall didn't look too bad for a man in his early twenties. In fact, the picture reminded Reid almost of himself.

Reid flips the photo over and scrunches his eyes in confusion. _Timothy Jenkins -1978 wa_s written on the back, which wasn't Dr. Hall's name. Reid has known Dr. Hall since he was eighteen. His name was _Teddy Hall, _not _Timothy Jenkins. _So maybe this wasn't Dr. Hall in the photo. Reid flips the photo back over and shakes his head. No it is definitely Dr. Hall and nobody else. He would bet his life on it.

But why did Dr. Hall change his name? Why is this photo stashed away with this Hopkins murder?

Glancing back at the Hopkins family portrait, he sighs. Nothing made sense. Then his eyes lock unerringly fast on another photo lying not too far away from him. The truth explodes without warning and like a poison it's the last thing he wants to touch.

There in the photo, Mr. Hopkins – one of the victims – is wearing a shinny Rolex watch; the same watch Dr. Hall is wearing. Reid can't help but think back to the basement.

"_Hey, nice watch, boss. Where'd you get it?" _

"_Got it from a patient."_

He doesn't want to believe it but he can't deny the unmistakable truth. After all, it's right there in front of him: the lens of Mr. Hopkins watch is cracked. Not only is it cracked, but it's cracked _exactly_ like Dr. Hall's watch.

Reid swallows hard. He isn't fighting against just a doctor anymore. No, he was fighting a murderer.


End file.
